During the night, McKinley had received word that his men would be withdrawn as soon as the 38th Infantry’s 2nd Battalion had established its defense, but the Germans struck before McKinley’s men could pull out. Via radio, McKinley told Colonel Boos that he could not disengage unless tank or tank destroyer support could be found. Suddenly, as if on cue, four Shermans appeared at the Baracken Crossroads. Asked if he wanted to fight, the tank platoon commander yelled loudly, "Hell, yes!" The Shermans moved in quickly, firing at enemy armor between the front lines and Rocherath. In quick succession, they accounted for four knocked out German tanks. The planned withdrawal commenced shortly after noon with the Shermans providing close support, as American artillery again rose to the occasion and prevented any interference by the enemy infantry. The last out of the CP, McKinley and his operations officer ran, heads lowered, towards the Baracken Crossroads, and as they fled they heard Germans shouting behind them, demanding their unit’s surrender.

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Just a little over a day earlier, 600 men had gone into Lausdell; now only 217 came out. The magnificent stand by McKinley and his men was a high point seldom witnessed in battle. "You have saved my regiment," Boos told him.

In Krinkelt, the men of Mildren’s 1st Battalion had been fighting tanks practically barehanded all morning long. Mildren had tried more than once to secure assistance from Boos in Rocherath, but to no avail. As the morning wore on and more panzers appeared, Mildren directed one of his staff to call the CP again for armored support. In short order, a junior officer was on the radio talking with Boos. "Sir, we’ve got to have TDs [tank destroyers]. We’re being overrun by Jerry tanks." Calmly, Boos asked, "How many tanks? And just how close are they to you?" Just then, one of the German tanks roared by outside Mildren’s CP, shaking the house to its very foundation. The young officer then replied, "Well, Colonel, if I went up to the second floor, I could piss out the window and hit at least six."

The savage fighting continued nonstop all day. Infantry and tank battles raged throughout the villages. The streets and lanes of both were filled with wrecked and burning tanks. Bodies of American and German dead were strewn about everywhere, frozen into the grotesque positions that only violent death can fashion. Men were captured, escaped and were recaptured. For hours GIs and grenadiers fought one another separated only by a narrow road. Word that the SS had been murdering prisoners and bayoneting wounded spread like wildfire through the American ranks and as the battle for Krinkelt and Rocherath continued–they neither gave nor expected quarter.

Near Mildren’s CP in Krinkelt, a Tiger tank was wreaking havoc. Lieutenant Jesse Morrow, Mildren’s communications officer, watched as the 60-ton monster rolled over a jeep, flattening it. Grabbing a bazooka that had been flung from the jeep, Morrow aimed at the rear of the tank and fired. The tank rolled on a little, out of control, then careened into a house. A crewman stuck his head out of the top hatch, and Morrow fired his .45 at him until it was empty. Just then a second jeep came toward the young officer. Spotting another bazooka in the vehicle, he stopped the driver, grabbed the weapon and leaped around the corner, ready to fire. Then he froze. He was looking directly down the tank’s cannon. The tank’s gunner fired, and the concussion from the shell exploding behind him knocked Morrow unconscious.

Coming to, Morrow saw the tank was a smoking hulk. He crawled back to the CP where Mildren, who had watched the entire scene unfold, could not believe that Morrow was still alive–alive, but not unscathed. The 88mm round from the Tiger had grazed Morrow’s neck as it passed, and he was bleeding profusely. Mildren ordered him evacuated immediately to a field hospital. As he was being loaded into an ambulance, Morrow noticed three badly burned German prisoners. A medic told him, "These guys were in the tank that shot you. A GI threw a thermite bomb down the turret." Smiling at the young American officer, one of the Germans asked, "Do you have a cigarette? Cigarette?" Morrow tried to get up. But with his fingers still clawing at the German, he dropped back, unconscious.

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